


so much more aware

by ideare



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 05 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideare/pseuds/ideare
Summary: “How do we know we’re not all dead and this is some elaborate dream on our way to oblivion?” — Alvin Murphy, 'Everybody Dies in the End'





	so much more aware

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/gifts).



> Title from [_Numb_](https://youtu.be/kXYiU_JCYtU) by Linkin Park.

Roberta is numb. 

She stares at her hands as she holds them up towards the sunlight streaming in from the large windows. She watches as dust particles swirl around each finger almost lovingly, at the way the light turns her hands red. If she stays still just long enough, she can almost trick herself into feeling the steady energy of her pulse pressing into her palms.

It is so weird to think that none of this is real. That all the thoughts and feelings she is experiencing right now aren’t the thoughts and feelings of the same Roberta Warren that everyone else had grown to know and trust. No. That Roberta was dead, and there was no way of getting her back.

The door opens gently, and Murphy sticks his head in slowly, like he’s trying to be covert — as if his red skin isn’t a rose bloom of danger against the walls.

“Warren.” It’s said as an agreement, advanced in its inception. 

“Murphy.” Roberta draws her arms close to her and tilts her head slightly, indicating the space on the marble bench next to her. 

Murphy takes the seat, tentatively, as if he doesn’t want to startle her by moving too quickly.

“So, business as usual?” He tries to make light of the situation, tries to dust off the pressure of this new realisation.

Roberta shakes her head. “No, Murphy. Everything is different now. Everything is changing — transforming.”

“But why does it have to? You were kicking ass before you died, and you were kicking ass after you died. Just because you _know_ you’re dead now, doesn’t mean you have to be any different. Take me for example: I was awesome before the apocalypse, and I’m awesome now. I mean, I’m practically glowing, I’m so damn amazing.”

Roberta smirks, and huffs out a little sound of amusement. “Trust you to sing your own praises when you’re supposed to be cheering me up.”

“Ah! But you laughed! So all in all, mission accomplished.”

Letting her smile drop, Roberta lowers her head and allows a curtain of her hair to shield her from Murphy’s view. It’s not that she isn’t grateful, but it still all feels _so weird_. How do you go from being alive to being dead when you’ve had no room for processing? When all you know is living and no one even gave you a chance to experience your death? She thinks that maybe if she had been awake — or at least _aware_ of dying, this whole thing wouldn’t be as jarring. Maybe then she could shrug this all off as just another day of this damn Apocalypse. But for now...

_God_ , she wonders now how Murphy was able to take the news of his own death so causally. Had it been the adrenaline of having people to save? Of a mission still in need of completion? In retrospect, he had made acceptance look so easy. 

“It’ll take some getting used to,” she says as she lifts her head again, shaking her hair back and out of the way. Her eyes meet Murphy’s and he holds her gaze, unwavering and accepting. He looks so patient, almost peaceful right now.

“You’re nothing if not determined; you’ll be fine, Roberta. You always are.”

“And I have you.”

“That is true." He sways into her lightly, their shoulders meeting and separating in the span of a punctuation mark. "I’m always here for you, you know that.”

Roberta raises an eyebrow, the light in her eyes sparking into her old humour. “Yeah, when I don’t have to hunt you down!”

Murphy just shrugs, standing up into the motion of his rising shoulders. “Admit it: you love the chase.” He extends a hand out to her. Even his palm is overly red.

She shakes her head, actually laughing a little as she accepts his offered hand. “It’s what I lived for.”

Roberta turns away from the windows and its deceptive sunlight, it’s dancing promises and lingering hope. She faces the dull door ahead with Murphy at her side.

“And now you have a whole new concept of living ahead of you. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Nope. But that’s never stopped us before.”


End file.
